Aussie show beats world's best for top prize at prestigious European TV awards
Other winners on the night included the documentary Rewilding Sharks, which explores efforts to restore shark populations in Indonesia's Raja Ampat, which received the Prince Rainier III Special Prize, and the French film L'Ange de Boutcha, about a French humanitarian who rescued over 200 civilians from Boutcha during the Ukraine conflict, which received the Monaco Red Cross Prize.
The Crystal Nymph, which recognises a career-long body of work, was awarded to American actress Robin Wright.
The festival organisers said Wright's work, from the films The Princess Bride and Forrest Gump, to the critically exalted television series House of Cards, had defined her as 'a leading figure in the global audiovisual landscape'.
Wright's award was personally presented by Monaco's Prince Albert II.
'It's about the contribution of artists in this industry, and how much they give,' Wright said in her acceptance speech. 'To have been in this industry as long as I have been, I feel very blessed.
'The magic of film and television and how we get to storytelling, is the most meaningful thing to me as an artist,' Wright added. 'It's the creativity and collaboration with everybody, to bring all of you to a point of emotion, whatever that emotion is.'
The festival's awards – the Golden Nymphs – are considered to be among the world's most prestigious television awards; the statuette is based on the 'Salmacis' Nymph by the Monegasque sculptor Francois Joseph Bosio.
The awards were handed out at a gala which closed the five-day television festival, one of several key dates in the TV calendar; others include Canneseries, which is held in Cannes, and next month's Italian Global Series Festival, which has moved from Rome to the Adriatic beach towns of Riccione and Rimini.
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The Monte-Carlo Television Festival was founded by Monaco's late Prince Rainier III in 1961 and is now in its 64th year. It draws an eclectic mixture of Hollywood stars, news media and studio executives and European royalty.
It is held annually in the tiny European principality.
'There is no place like this on Earth,' Light told the audience at the gala, before introducing the winners of the fiction prizes. 'You take the beauty and the majesty of this place, and you put it together with so many visionary, creative, artistic souls, and you make magic for five glorious days.'
The five-day festival includes premiere screenings, an industry conference and, for the first time, an open international 'pitching' competition, offering a program development prize to the recipient. The winning pitch, for a project titled 30 Days Offline, was won by Bryant University student Beau Shugarts.
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The Age
4 hours ago
- The Age
How SBS evolved from ‘clogs and cooking' into our most innovative broadcaster
For some Australians, it was the soccer that first prompted them to watch SBS. Others came for its flagship World News bulletin; current affairs programs such as Dateline, Insight and Living Black; or cult hits including South Park, Queer as Folk and Fat Pizza. And for many teenagers, its racy international films served as a reliable drawcard (and a gateway drug to the appreciation of arthouse cinema). But for Julia Zemiro, SBS was a lifeline to her home country. 'I was born in France and did all my primary education at a French school in Australia,' says the popular presenter, who has hosted several series and specials for the broadcaster including RocKwiz, Who Do You Think You Are?, Great Australian Walks and the Eurovision Song Contest. 'To have all those French films and TV shows was incredible. There was French radio but to see those images on TV made you feel even more connected.' This month, the Special Broadcasting Service – affectionately dubbed the 'Sex Between Soccer' network by viewers – marks its 50th anniversary. And there is much to celebrate: over the course of five decades, it has evolved from two experimental radio stations (2EA in Sydney and 3EA in Melbourne; EA standing for 'Ethnic Australia') into a radio network broadcasting in 68 languages, as well as six television channels. In 2014, its share of the TV audience was 5.2 per cent; last year, it was 9.3 per cent. And its SBS On Demand service has grown by 18 per cent over the past 12 months, with almost 2.25 million active accounts logging into the platform in April alone. 'SBS has been a constant companion of multiculturalism in Australia,' says the network's managing director, James Taylor. 'I'm reminded of the Noel Pearson Boyer Lecture from 2022, where he spoke about the story of Australia resting on three pillars: our First Nations heritage, the British institutional foundations and the multicultural gift of migration. I like to think that SBS sits at the intersection of these pillars by brokering understanding, belonging and mutual respect.' When SBS was launched by the Whitlam government in 1975, it had a narrow aim: to inform non-English speaking Australians of the Medibank public health system, now known as Medicare. Indeed, it was intended to operate for just three months, until its success prompted the government to acknowledge the value of a permanent multicultural broadcaster in a country with a booming migrant population. In 1980, SBS expanded into television, with the Fraser government appointing former ABC chair Bruce Gyngell as its first chief executive. 'I was horrified with the concept they had,' Gyngell later recalled. 'It sounded to me like a typical sort of ethnic station with dancing and clogs and exotic cooking and not much more than that. The sense of culture seemed to be totally absent.' What Gyngell wanted was a channel that would encourage migrants to feel embraced by their adopted country – and to foster a greater appreciation and understanding of their cultures among Australian-born citizens. Loading 'If SBS had never existed, we'd understand so much less about ourselves,' says Jenny Brockie, who hosted the acclaimed Insight program between 2001 and 2020. 'It encouraged us to celebrate our differences while recognising that we're all part of a community, which I think is its biggest contribution. And at a programming level, SBS has been a real innovator; it's a place where a lot of risks have been taken.' Insight is a good example: under Brockie, it evolved from a magazine format into a discussion forum. Each episode is devoted to a single topic, from domestic terrorism to the pain of betrayal, with a studio audience – as opposed to a panel of talking heads – sharing their views and experiences. This might seem like a recipe for Jerry Springer-style conflict but in reality, Insight is among the most thoughtful and illuminating programs on Australian television. 'Every single person in the room is nurtured by producers through extensive conversations over a long period of time,' says Insight's current host, Kumi Taguchi. 'We don't do gotcha moments; if somebody says they don't want to discuss a particular part of their experience, we never cross that line. We're transparent with our guests about who else will be in the room, and the fact there will be differing opinions, which helps build trust and understanding. About 80 per cent of the work is done behind the scenes before people even get into the studio.' 'We were allowed to be a bit more bold than we might have been on a commercial network.' Julia Zemiro Long before Taguchi joined SBS, she was an avid viewer of the network. 'It brought a new kind of quirkiness and irreverence to our screens,' she says. 'Everyone would talk about the late-night world movies, and it was the only station at the time to show South Park. I really like the way it pushed those boundaries.' Loading Zemiro agrees. 'We were allowed to be a bit more bold than we might have been on a commercial network,' she says. 'As a viewer, you'd see things that were a bit sexy or dangerous. SBS showed soccer before anyone gave a shit about soccer. We could say things like, 'Colonialism isn't great' or 'These animals are suffering and we need to do something about it'. And with [music quiz show] RocKwiz, they just let us go for it and be creative, which is pretty rare.' Of course, SBS – which receives about one third of its funding from commercial sponsors and the rest from taxpayers – is not immune to the difficulties facing free-to-air broadcasters in 2025. This is largely due to technological advances, which spawned direct rivals such as Netflix, Stan* and Disney+. (Meanwhile, Google and Meta now account for an estimated 70 per cent of digital advertising spend.) But technology has also been a boon for the network, allowing it to maintain its multilingual programming while reaching new audiences through SBS On Demand and additional channels such as Viceland, World Movies, Food, WorldWatch and NITV. Karla Grant, a Western Arrernte woman, joined SBS in 1995 as a producer and reporter on ICAM, the network's first Indigenous affairs program. In 2002, she created the acclaimed Living Black, which she hosts to this day, and she is one of the main presenters on the National Indigenous Television channel, which became part of SBS in 2012. Loading 'SBS has been a leader in terms of Indigenous programming and storytelling, giving First Nations people a platform and a voice they don't have anywhere else,' Grant says. 'But NITV and Living Black also play a huge part in informing and educating our nation about First Nations issues, history and culture, which is something we want to share with the rest of the country and the world. It's an important role and I think we do it well.' Among the reporting Grant is most proud of is an investigation called Taken, which examined the growing number of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children being removed from their homes by authorities. 'Everyone talks about the stolen generations as though they're a thing of the past,' she says. 'In fact, it's still happening today. We did a story about kids in detention, and how one boy had to drink from the toilet in his cell because the guard wouldn't let him have fresh water. A lot of people wrote to me saying, 'We had no idea this type of thing still happens, but it's an appalling breach of human rights'.' Over the past three decades, Grant has also told countless positive stories. Loading 'We shine a light on all the great things that are happening in our communities and the people who are making huge contributions to our country' she says. 'It's entertaining but it's also educating people at the same time.' The same could be said of many SBS dramas. East West 101, which was set in a major crime squad, explored issues of race and justice; Deep Water was based on unsolved gay hate murders in the 1980s; and New Gold Mountain captured the racial tensions of Victoria's goldfields in the 1850s. There have been warm-hearted comedies such as The Family Law, based on Benjamin Law's memoir of the same name; the groundbreaking documentary series Struggle Street, which detailed the reality of living in poverty in Australia; and the hit reality show Alone Australia, in which survivalists attempt to live by themselves for as long as possible in the wilderness. Among the network's best-known former presenters are newsreaders Lee Lin Chin and George Donikian; Margaret Pomeranz and David Stratton, who hosted The Movie Show between 1986 and 2004; and sports broadcasters Damien Lovelock and Les Murray. Craig Foster, who spent 18 years as SBS's chief football analyst, believes the network's purpose was best described by Murray, who died in 2019. 'Way back in the '80s, it was Les who rightly said that SBS is [an affirmation] of the value of pluralism and multiple ancestries,' Foster says. 'It didn't matter whether you spoke Turkish, Greek or Italian – that should be celebrated.' Foster recalls the semi-final between South Korea and Germany at the 2002 FIFA World Cup with a particular fondness. 'There were hundreds of thousands of people watching that game with immense passion,' he says. 'And it was SBS that not only understood that fact, it celebrated it. In effect, what SBS was saying is, 'We are all connected through this game and we respect you as equal Australians. Your parents might have been looked down upon, but we want you to know that we love it when you speak different languages and we love it when you wear your ceremonial dress. In other words, we get you'.' Anton Enus, who hosts the World News bulletins on Fridays and Saturdays, echoes this sentiment. 'I came here from South Africa in 1999 and SBS really helped me embrace this nation that was new to me,' he says. 'As a migrant, you also want to feel connected [to your home country], so you're always looking for someone who sounds like you or speaks your language. But another great thing about SBS is that it teaches you about other cultures you might not have any direct connection to. You might start watching an Italian movie and before you know it, you're completely sucked in because it's something totally different to what you'd get from Hollywood or the BBC.' For managing director Taylor, this is the raison d'etre for the network. 'I regard SBS as a national broadcaster that tells the stories of all Australians,' he says. 'The Australia you see when you tune into any one of our channels or platforms is the same Australia you see when you walk out your front door.'

Sydney Morning Herald
4 hours ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
How SBS evolved from ‘clogs and cooking' into our most innovative broadcaster
For some Australians, it was the soccer that first prompted them to watch SBS. Others came for its flagship World News bulletin; current affairs programs such as Dateline, Insight and Living Black; or cult hits including South Park, Queer as Folk and Fat Pizza. And for many teenagers, its racy international films served as a reliable drawcard (and a gateway drug to the appreciation of arthouse cinema). But for Julia Zemiro, SBS was a lifeline to her home country. 'I was born in France and did all my primary education at a French school in Australia,' says the popular presenter, who has hosted several series and specials for the broadcaster including RocKwiz, Who Do You Think You Are?, Great Australian Walks and the Eurovision Song Contest. 'To have all those French films and TV shows was incredible. There was French radio but to see those images on TV made you feel even more connected.' This month, the Special Broadcasting Service – affectionately dubbed the 'Sex Between Soccer' network by viewers – marks its 50th anniversary. And there is much to celebrate: over the course of five decades, it has evolved from two experimental radio stations (2EA in Sydney and 3EA in Melbourne; EA standing for 'Ethnic Australia') into a radio network broadcasting in 68 languages, as well as six television channels. In 2014, its share of the TV audience was 5.2 per cent; last year, it was 9.3 per cent. And its SBS On Demand service has grown by 18 per cent over the past 12 months, with almost 2.25 million active accounts logging into the platform in April alone. 'SBS has been a constant companion of multiculturalism in Australia,' says the network's managing director, James Taylor. 'I'm reminded of the Noel Pearson Boyer Lecture from 2022, where he spoke about the story of Australia resting on three pillars: our First Nations heritage, the British institutional foundations and the multicultural gift of migration. I like to think that SBS sits at the intersection of these pillars by brokering understanding, belonging and mutual respect.' When SBS was launched by the Whitlam government in 1975, it had a narrow aim: to inform non-English speaking Australians of the Medibank public health system, now known as Medicare. Indeed, it was intended to operate for just three months, until its success prompted the government to acknowledge the value of a permanent multicultural broadcaster in a country with a booming migrant population. In 1980, SBS expanded into television, with the Fraser government appointing former ABC chair Bruce Gyngell as its first chief executive. 'I was horrified with the concept they had,' Gyngell later recalled. 'It sounded to me like a typical sort of ethnic station with dancing and clogs and exotic cooking and not much more than that. The sense of culture seemed to be totally absent.' What Gyngell wanted was a channel that would encourage migrants to feel embraced by their adopted country – and to foster a greater appreciation and understanding of their cultures among Australian-born citizens. Loading 'If SBS had never existed, we'd understand so much less about ourselves,' says Jenny Brockie, who hosted the acclaimed Insight program between 2001 and 2020. 'It encouraged us to celebrate our differences while recognising that we're all part of a community, which I think is its biggest contribution. And at a programming level, SBS has been a real innovator; it's a place where a lot of risks have been taken.' Insight is a good example: under Brockie, it evolved from a magazine format into a discussion forum. Each episode is devoted to a single topic, from domestic terrorism to the pain of betrayal, with a studio audience – as opposed to a panel of talking heads – sharing their views and experiences. This might seem like a recipe for Jerry Springer-style conflict but in reality, Insight is among the most thoughtful and illuminating programs on Australian television. 'Every single person in the room is nurtured by producers through extensive conversations over a long period of time,' says Insight's current host, Kumi Taguchi. 'We don't do gotcha moments; if somebody says they don't want to discuss a particular part of their experience, we never cross that line. We're transparent with our guests about who else will be in the room, and the fact there will be differing opinions, which helps build trust and understanding. About 80 per cent of the work is done behind the scenes before people even get into the studio.' 'We were allowed to be a bit more bold than we might have been on a commercial network.' Julia Zemiro Long before Taguchi joined SBS, she was an avid viewer of the network. 'It brought a new kind of quirkiness and irreverence to our screens,' she says. 'Everyone would talk about the late-night world movies, and it was the only station at the time to show South Park. I really like the way it pushed those boundaries.' Loading Zemiro agrees. 'We were allowed to be a bit more bold than we might have been on a commercial network,' she says. 'As a viewer, you'd see things that were a bit sexy or dangerous. SBS showed soccer before anyone gave a shit about soccer. We could say things like, 'Colonialism isn't great' or 'These animals are suffering and we need to do something about it'. And with [music quiz show] RocKwiz, they just let us go for it and be creative, which is pretty rare.' Of course, SBS – which receives about one third of its funding from commercial sponsors and the rest from taxpayers – is not immune to the difficulties facing free-to-air broadcasters in 2025. This is largely due to technological advances, which spawned direct rivals such as Netflix, Stan* and Disney+. (Meanwhile, Google and Meta now account for an estimated 70 per cent of digital advertising spend.) But technology has also been a boon for the network, allowing it to maintain its multilingual programming while reaching new audiences through SBS On Demand and additional channels such as Viceland, World Movies, Food, WorldWatch and NITV. Karla Grant, a Western Arrernte woman, joined SBS in 1995 as a producer and reporter on ICAM, the network's first Indigenous affairs program. In 2002, she created the acclaimed Living Black, which she hosts to this day, and she is one of the main presenters on the National Indigenous Television channel, which became part of SBS in 2012. Loading 'SBS has been a leader in terms of Indigenous programming and storytelling, giving First Nations people a platform and a voice they don't have anywhere else,' Grant says. 'But NITV and Living Black also play a huge part in informing and educating our nation about First Nations issues, history and culture, which is something we want to share with the rest of the country and the world. It's an important role and I think we do it well.' Among the reporting Grant is most proud of is an investigation called Taken, which examined the growing number of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children being removed from their homes by authorities. 'Everyone talks about the stolen generations as though they're a thing of the past,' she says. 'In fact, it's still happening today. We did a story about kids in detention, and how one boy had to drink from the toilet in his cell because the guard wouldn't let him have fresh water. A lot of people wrote to me saying, 'We had no idea this type of thing still happens, but it's an appalling breach of human rights'.' Over the past three decades, Grant has also told countless positive stories. Loading 'We shine a light on all the great things that are happening in our communities and the people who are making huge contributions to our country' she says. 'It's entertaining but it's also educating people at the same time.' The same could be said of many SBS dramas. East West 101, which was set in a major crime squad, explored issues of race and justice; Deep Water was based on unsolved gay hate murders in the 1980s; and New Gold Mountain captured the racial tensions of Victoria's goldfields in the 1850s. There have been warm-hearted comedies such as The Family Law, based on Benjamin Law's memoir of the same name; the groundbreaking documentary series Struggle Street, which detailed the reality of living in poverty in Australia; and the hit reality show Alone Australia, in which survivalists attempt to live by themselves for as long as possible in the wilderness. Among the network's best-known former presenters are newsreaders Lee Lin Chin and George Donikian; Margaret Pomeranz and David Stratton, who hosted The Movie Show between 1986 and 2004; and sports broadcasters Damien Lovelock and Les Murray. Craig Foster, who spent 18 years as SBS's chief football analyst, believes the network's purpose was best described by Murray, who died in 2019. 'Way back in the '80s, it was Les who rightly said that SBS is [an affirmation] of the value of pluralism and multiple ancestries,' Foster says. 'It didn't matter whether you spoke Turkish, Greek or Italian – that should be celebrated.' Foster recalls the semi-final between South Korea and Germany at the 2002 FIFA World Cup with a particular fondness. 'There were hundreds of thousands of people watching that game with immense passion,' he says. 'And it was SBS that not only understood that fact, it celebrated it. In effect, what SBS was saying is, 'We are all connected through this game and we respect you as equal Australians. Your parents might have been looked down upon, but we want you to know that we love it when you speak different languages and we love it when you wear your ceremonial dress. In other words, we get you'.' Anton Enus, who hosts the World News bulletins on Fridays and Saturdays, echoes this sentiment. 'I came here from South Africa in 1999 and SBS really helped me embrace this nation that was new to me,' he says. 'As a migrant, you also want to feel connected [to your home country], so you're always looking for someone who sounds like you or speaks your language. But another great thing about SBS is that it teaches you about other cultures you might not have any direct connection to. You might start watching an Italian movie and before you know it, you're completely sucked in because it's something totally different to what you'd get from Hollywood or the BBC.' For managing director Taylor, this is the raison d'etre for the network. 'I regard SBS as a national broadcaster that tells the stories of all Australians,' he says. 'The Australia you see when you tune into any one of our channels or platforms is the same Australia you see when you walk out your front door.'

The Age
4 hours ago
- The Age
With his $15m nuptials, Bezos is the latest to say ‘I do' to loving a massive wedding
This story is part of the June 21 edition of Good Weekend. See all 15 stories. Amazon gazillionaire Jeff Bezos is reportedly dropping $US10 million ($15.5 million) to marry his second wife, former TV presenter and amateur astronaut Lauren Sánchez, on the Venetian island of San Giorgio Maggiore next week. Last month, Kim Kardashian and Katy Perry partied at Sanchez's Paris hen night as an army of lawyers finalised the pre-nup. Such big-ticket wedding extravaganzas are much more than a celebration of love, of course: beyond the spectacle, they are highly choreographed PR offensives that the media lap up, giving the rest of us a glimpse into the rarefied orbits of the world's rich, famous and powerful. In 2007, I spent a week clinging to a rocky outcrop, fighting off the French paparazzi under the searing Mediterranean sun, while watching Tom Cruise, his then-wife Katie Holmes, Eddie McGuire, Shane Warne and most of the Murdoch family live the good life aboard superyachts during James Packer's six-day, $6 million wedding to Erica Packer. The bride wore a $150,000 dress by John Galliano for Christian Dior while Sarah Murdoch dazzled in a bikini on the deck of a $50 million Mangusta. At James' big sister Gretel Packer's lavish 1991 wedding in West Sussex, waiters were doused in Chanel No. 5 before being unleashed among the VIP guests gathered in a mock-Cotswold stone marquee fashioned out of polystyrene; Kerry Packer was clearly out to impress the Brits. In 2006, my lips turned blue hiding behind a pot plant as I listened to Keith Urban serenade his new bride, Nicole Kidman, on a freezing Sydney winter's night, while the wreck of the Hesperus had nothing on me after I'd chased Bec and Lleyton Hewitt's 2005 wedding flotilla across a choppy Sydney Harbour aboard a clapped-out fishing tinnie. Brynne Edelsten admitted she'd never met most of the guests at her extravagant 2009 Melbourne wedding to the late, disgraced medico Geoffrey Edelsten, who'd paid Jason Alexander and Fran Drescher to attend. Kyle Sandilands gave away tickets on air to his first wedding, to Tamara Jaber in 2008 and, in 2023, raised eyebrows by inviting PM Anthony Albanese and NSW Premier Chris Minns – along with underworld figure John Ibrahim and convicted drug trafficker Simon Maine – to his second wedding to Tegan Kynaston. Meanwhile, Australia's richest human, Gina Rinehart, caused a scandal when she flew then-deputy Liberal leader Julie Bishop and Nationals Senate leader Barnaby Joyce to the sumptuous, three-day wedding of the granddaughter of a prominent business associate in Hyderabad in 2011. According to industry statistics, the cost of the average wedding in Oz is $33,810. For the amount he's paying, Bezos could say 'I do' 458 times.